“If anything, it’s a new way to torture our athletes.” He smiles wickedly and then nods at my folders. “What do you have for us, Milly? What’s this all about?”
Here we go.
I spend the next hour going over my proposed plan, holding my composure—barely—whenever I recalled Carson’s response when he saw it. I wish he was here. I show them my plans for their facility, the expansion they can make if they purchase the empty warehouse next to the building, and the profit margin from creating a new branch to their business. I give them my investment plans and my idea of not wanting to rent space, but wanting to be a partner.
I explain my dreams, how I want to coach but also want to offer a new wave of coaching to athletes, a one-stop shop for baseball. I even worked out a plan for a shop on the premises as well, where we would get discounts from sponsors to carry their equipment, but we’d only take brands we’re confident stamping our names on. I clarify that this wouldn’t be an event space, a place to swing a bat because you want to go to the batting cages. This would be a coach and player relationship facility where you work closely on an individualized training plan. Chicago is the perfect place to start the indoor facility, because not only will players be able to train year round and avoid being chapped in the ass from the winds off Lake Michigan, but why not take advantage of the fact that baseball is a huge aspect of the city, and families move here just so their children have a chance to train with some of the best.
I included a list of names of coaches who would join the co-op and rent out cages to practice in with their players, as long as we have a good quality space, which I promise we would, because if anything the Potters are always meticulous with the quality we provide.
Once I finish explaining everything, I sit back and watch as both my brothers talk quietly together, looking over the picture renderings and growth charts. It feels like ten minutes goes by before they set the folders down and smile brightly at me.
“I think I speak for both of us when I say, we’re fucking excited you’re our sister,” Rian says. “This is goddamn brilliant, and I’m not just saying that because you’re family. If you were a random person who came off the street with this idea, I’d be saying the same damn thing.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Sean says, flipping to the financials. “But your investment?” He shakes his head, and my heart drops. “This isn’t necessary.”
“I agree. We don’t need your money.”
“That’s not negotiable.” I straighten my shoulders. “If you want my idea, you take my money with it. I want us to be partners.”
“You don’t need to invest to be partners, Milly.”
“If I wasn’t your sister, you’d want an investor, so set aside the family card and see what I’m offering you. A chance to expand but not spend all your money. I want a piece of this and I want it fairly.”
“We built this from the ground up,” Sean says, with a smile. “You want to step in and become a partner all of a sudden? Who do you think you are? A strong, passionate woman with some of the best ideas I’ve ever seen?”
I can’t help it, I crack and smile. “Only because I’ve had the best support system growing up, telling me I can do anything I want and be anything I want.”
“And you lived up to that.” Rian stands and pulls me up by the arm, then wraps his arms around me and brings me into a big hug. Sean comes up from behind and sandwiches me in.
“This isn’t very businesslike,” I say, my mouth smooshed against Rian’s chest.
They both laugh and back away. Rian lends out his hand and says, “I think we’re in business, sis.”
“Yeah?” I take his hand and shake it. “You really want to work with me?”
“We do.” Sean takes my hand next and gives it a squeeze. “We always thought it would be neat to expand, but never put together a plan, so it’s like you reached into our heads, pulled out our random ideas, and put it on paper. This is killer, Milly.”
“Thank you.” I clap because, hell, I can’t contain it anymore, everything seems to be falling in place. “When do we get started?”
“How about when we get back from the expo in a week, does that sound good? It gives you some time with Carson, to help him out, and then we can hit the ground running.”
“Sounds great. Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you,” Sean says. “Now, go get your guy.”
Joy filling me, I get into my car with one thing on my mind: getting to Carson.
The boys are making their way through tournament play right now, so thankfully I asked Jason for the code to the loft, which he gave me, making me promise to let him know how Carson is when I get to Kansas. I have a lot of people to inform once I get there.
Not even bothering to change since my flight is in two hours, I quickly rush to the loft, run up the stairs, and unlock the door with the keypad. The loft is eerily quiet as I make my way through the living room and back toward the bedrooms. I haven’t spent much time in the loft, we were usually at my place to get away from all the prying eyes, but I do have a few memories in this testosterone-filled space, especially when the boys made me stand on a chair and announce my favorite pickle flavor.
Smiling to myself, I reach Carson’s room just as a tall figure opens the door, scaring a scream right from my lips. Backing up, hand to the chest, I startle as Carson’s face comes into view. He’s carrying a duffle bag in one hand, his bat bag in the other, and he’s wearing a frown when his eyes connect with mine.
“Carson,” I say breathlessly, trying to gather my wits.
He looks me up and down and then asks, “What are you doing here?” His tone is rough, borderline angry.
“I . . . I was going to . . .” I swallow hard. God, when was the last time I stuttered around this man? It feels like a few months ago, when he positively scared me. I take a deep breath and say, “I was coming to get you more clothes. I have a flight to Topeka in a few hours.”
“Why?”
Uh . . . am I missing something?
“To visit you. To be with you.”
“Cancel it,” he says, moving past me without even a second glance.
“Wait.” I snag his arm. “Carson, what’s going on? Aren’t you even going to say hi? Talk to me? I’ve been worried sick about you. Everyone has.”
“Tell them I’m headed to Phoenix for training.”
I try to look past the brick wall he’s stacking between us, but it feels like I’m sinking with each glance. There’s no possible chance that I can relate to him right now because I’ve never lost a parent, let alone two, but I want to understand, I want to be there to help him.
“Okay, do you want me to go with you? Do you have an apartment there? I can help you get set up, settled in.”
“Nah, I’m good.” He checks his watch on his wrist. It’s old and a little big on him. I’ve never seen it before so I’m going to assume it was his dad’s. Just seeing the worn-out scratches on it, the wear and tear, it brings tears to my eyes. It must be a piece of his dad he’s carrying with him, but I can’t be sure.